


Cupid's curse

by Ameldeya



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Curses, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Rating May Change, Secret Crush, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-01-12 03:13:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18437846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ameldeya/pseuds/Ameldeya
Summary: All her life, Hermione Granger was determined that Draco Malfoy was an evil, despicable cockroach. Her view is forced to be changed all of a sudden at his trial as a well kept secret is revealed about the Malfoy heir, unlocking a curse involving her and forcing her to work together with Draco to safe her own life.





	1. Revelation

The room was silent and everybody stared at him. Some with hateful eyes, others with pitiful ones, but the most with curious ones. His grey eyes just stared at his folded hands. Hermoine’s palms were covered in a slight sheen of sweat, pressed tightly together and she resisted the urge to bite her lower lip. She tried to breathe calmly and tried to convince herself that the worst part was over. She heard every charge, every witness, including herself, making the testimony against his war crimes. All that was left was his statement - and yet, he decided to say nothing at all. No apology, no explanation, no justification – nothing.

“I ask you again, Mr. Malfoy, do you have anything to say to these charges?” Malfoy moved his lips, but she couldn’t hear a thing. “Again, Mr. Malfoy. We couldn’t hear you.” The chief warlock eyed him thoroughly. “No.”

“In this case…” the wizard began. “Objection!” Malfoy’s lawyer jumped up and rose his hand. Grey eyes shot deadly glances at him. “I told you, I won’t say anything,” hissed Malfoy, clearly irritated by his lawyer’s behavior. “I must apologize, chief warlock, but it is my duty to defend my client against the charges – even from himself.”

The chief warlock rose his eyebrows. “What do you propose, Solicitor Fletcher?” Mr. Fletcher cleared his throat, purposely avoiding his client’s deadly stares. “I want to show you some memories of my client that will show the events in a different light.” “NO!” Malfoy jumped up and pulled angrily at his lawyer’s sleeve. “Mr. Malfoy, you designated your lawyer to your defense. Let him speak. I want to see this. Justice will have its way.” The chief warlock didn’t seem amused. Hermione shifted impatiently on her chair. She was convinced that there was nothing in the world that would change her opinion on Draco Malfoy. Nothing. Oh, how mistaken she was.

“I request the use of veritaserum. My client is quite skilled in occlumency.” With a nod of the chief warlock a guard brought a small vial and forced the content down Malfoy’s throat who pressed his lips tightly together and who’s eyes burnt with rage. He tried to fight the guard and to spit out the fluid, but there was no escape. “Expono memoriam!”

A slight silver thread spun from Mr. Fletcher’s wand to Malfoy’s head, and from Malfoy’s head to a pensieve and from the pensieve to the wall. Hermione had heard this spell from time to time during lawsuits. It was specially developed for critical lawsuits; a spell to reveal the true memories of a person. She couldn’t think another second about it, because the first memory was displayed on the wall like a movie.

_It was back in Hogwarts, in the dungeons. Snape’s worried face and creased brows covered almost the whole wall. The professor softly touched what appeared to be Malfoy’s shoulder. “I know how you feel, Draco. I see your glances. I see them, because I was you once upon a time. Stories like this will never have a happy end, do you understand me? You’re a Slytherin, she’s a Gryffindor. Your family wouldn’t approve. It is in your best interest to leave her alone. Don’t make the same mistake I did and swoon over a girl you can never have. It will ruin your life.”_

The picture faded and another one was thrown on the wall.

_Lucius Malfoy slapped his son. “I said, stay away from her! She is a dirty, filthy mudblood! Don’t you dare to ruin our familiy’s reputation because of a fling! If I hear ever again that you talk to her nicely, you will regret it! Do your family some honor! And now enough with this house elf bullshit!”_

The picture changed again. The whole room gasped as the face of the dark lord was displayed.

_“You give us access to the castle or your precious little girl dies, the filthy mudblood.” It was dark, but Voldemort’s eyes glowed dangerously. “Leave her alone! I do what you want! I’ll kill Dumbledore! Isn’t that enough?” Malfoy’s voice sounded desperate and he stumbled backwards. His own father stood behind the dark lord with a grim face. “Oh Draco, you are so naïve. Kill the witch.” The dark lord said to some of his death eater. “No! Stop! Don’t kill her! I do everything you want, but don’t kill her!” The ugly face showed an even more ugly smile. “We won’t, if you do everything I want you to do.” “I’ll do it, I’ll do it! Please don’t kill her!” The dark lord made another step. “Seems we have a deal, Draco. You are as smart as your father told me. But if you tell anyone from this deal, you will die yourself – and her with you, you hear me? You two will die a painful, slow death.”_

The scene faded.

_“You said you would leave her alone!” Draco Malfoy was sobbing, a sound, no one would ever expect from the youngest Malfoy. Voldemort stood in front of him, turning slowly around with a devilish grin. “Well, technically I told you, she wouldn’t die. She didn’t, did she?”_

_“Bellatrix almost tortured her to death!” Malfoy’s voice almost overthrew itself. “And she only didn’t die because I told her so. But if you want to cancel our deal, I will happily give the command to kill this bitch.”_

The image faded and left an astonished crowd behind. If there had been any doubt from which witch Malfoy had spoken, it had vanished in the minute he mentioned the torture. Merely a week ago, Hermione had testified that he hadn’t tortured her, but didn’t do anything to save her as well. Hermione’s face was hot and cold at the same time. Unbelievingly, she stared at Malfoy, but he avoided any eye contact. All these years, she’d thought he hated her. All the insults, all the taunting, it had been a lie. The whole Death Eater-mudblood-hater-Draco-Malfoy-thing had been a lie.

The room was dead silent and the first people started to glance at Hermione. Robes rustled as wizards and witches turned around and stared openly at her, gazes burning in her face and back. Why weren’t Ron or Harry here? The first flash of a camera reflecting in her brown eyes woke her from her stupor.

She held her bag in front of her face and stormed out, a mob of reporter following her, tears of confusion streaming down her face. “Miss Granger, did you know of Draco Malfoy’s feelings for you?” The first question was thrown at her as soon as she left the courtroom of the Wizengamot. “Are you in love with him as well?” another voice called after her. “Do you think he should be charged for his crimes regarding the fact that he did it for love?” As soon as it was possible, Hermione apparated with a crack, leaving frustrated journalists behind.


	2. Upside down

If the war had taught Hermione anything, it was that routines could safe lives. As soon as her feet touched her living room floor and panic started to rise, the routine kicked in. She reset and renewed her wards, shut down the floo and closed all windows. She even locked the door – an old muggle habit. After hesitating a moment, she even added some stronger wards. Only then Hermione allowed herself to take a breath.

She sank down on her couch and let her head fall back on the backrest, not even caring that she was still in her court outfit. Crookshanks jumped on her lap with a mew and pressed his head reassuring against her belly. Her mind was a mess. Everything she seemed to know about Draco Malfoy had been a lie. How often did she wonder why he was after Harry, although he was no Muggle-born. Or why he was harassing Ron and leaving most of the other Weasleys alone. The latest revelation shed a different light on probably all of their encounters.

In Merin’s name, how did such an anyway difficult day turn into absolute chaos? So many thoughts bounced in her head, fighting each other that Hermione had trouble sorting them all. She was interrupted in her attempt by an owl, pecking persistently on her window. Probably the first of many. She cast a _Quietus_ at the window and got up to make her a pot of tea. Her whole world had turned upside down in minutes. Why did this revelation affect her so much?

When she returned in her living room, more and more owls gathered on her windowsill, but she ignored them. A steaming cup in her head, she tried to sort out her thoughts logically. The thought bothering her the most was that she guessed that if they had known about Malfoy’s “situation”, a lot of blood shed could have been prevented.

Maybe they could have made him turn his coat or offer him protection. He could have supplied them with important information and a lot of people wouldn’t have died. And he would have been protected as well and wouldn’t had been forced to do such terrible things. Things to protect _her_. Things he did to ensure her safety.

Merlin. Was this her fault? Maybe, if she hadn’t been so hostile towards him, he would have made an attempt to tell her. Another realization hit her. Mr. Fletcher had only showed a few memories. What else had he done for her? Hermione paled. Malfoy had pushed her out of his way in some bushes at the world cup. Merely a few seconds later, a handful Death Eaters had passed by. Back then, she thought that was a lucky incident. But what, if it wasn’t?

Or the protean charm, the one, she created the coins for DA with… she found it in a book that laid open in the library at her space, opened at the exact page where the spell was described. Did he place it there? Her heart raced.

She summoned a quill and a parchment and started to write down all situations that came to her mind, where Malfoy could have interfered. She finished the list after over two hours and many feet of parchment. And now? What did she hope to achieve? Nothing. She even felt guiltier than before. Logic had always been her strength, but it seemed it had forsaken her. So many wrong interpretations based on _one_ false assumption-

She was interrupted by someone knocking at her door. Hermione froze. “Hermione?” She hesitated to open, it all could be a trick by a clever reporter. “Mione, please open the door. I heard what happened.” Slowly, she approached the door and listened. Only one person breathing. It could be Harry.

“How do I know it’s you?” “Merlin…” She heard hair being ruffled. “I’m sending my patronus.” A moment and the words “Expecto Patronum” later, a silver stag strode proudly through the door with its head held high. Hermione sighed and opened the door to let a very concerned looking Harry in.

“You have ink all over your face.” He eyed her head to toe. Her costume was wrinkled and her hair was tousled. “How are you holding up?” Hermione led him to the living room and fell back on the couch. “Honestly? I don’t know. We wronged him. We always thought that we were the good ones and he was bad. We even thought he could be the heir of Salazar Slytherin himself. But there was the real him, hiding in the shadows and intervening all along, not taking credit for anything. How could we have been so blind?”

Harry sat down and shrugged his shoulders awkwardly. “Well, he was mean to us and he was a Slytherin. It was rather obvious that he despised all of us.” Hermione huffed. “You know that’s no excuse, Harry.” They sat there in silence for a few minutes.

“Movie?” Harry didn’t even wait for her answer, but put a movie on and sat next to her, pulling her in his embrace. Sighing, Hermione laid her head on his shoulder. “We should apologize, that’s the least we can do,” she said after a while. Harry nodded slightly.

“Do you remember what Dumbledore said in our first year? He gave Neville house points for standing up against us - saying it took more courage to act against one’s friends than one’s enemies. And he didn’t just stand up against his friends, but his family. His family, Harry! His father could have disinherited him. He could have lost everything and still… I don’t even have words to express the sacrifices he was willing to make.” Harry just nodded silently.

After a while, she asked him: “How did Ron react?” “Well, you know Ron. He was furious and I kept him from storming here right away. I thought that might upset you even more. Molly and Ginny are trying to calm him down at the Burrow right now.” Hermione just nodded, but remained silent.

“What shall I tell them?” He didn’t need to specify who he was referring to “Tell them, I want to be alone for a few days. Escaping all the reporters and order my thoughts. Maybe figuring out something. Anything. I don’t know. During all the time, we could do something. And now… I feel so helpless. The person needing our help most of the time was in front of us and we never even thought about it. It’s a thousand times worse than mistaking Quirrel’s action for Snape’s.”

Harry gulped. “You are right. I think I should go and apologize right away. There is no point in delaying it.” Hermione’s eyes brightened. “Can I come with you?” Harry grimaced. “I think that is not possible. He is still in the cell in the ministry and only Aurors have access.”

“Technically, you are not an Auror.” He smirked. “But an Auror in training. That is almost as good as one. I’ll tell him you are sorry, too.” “Don’t. I’ll need to do that myself. Tell him nothing about me at all.” Even if he didn’t say so, Harry understood. He sighed. “I better go right now. He deserves to know.” With a sharp crack, Harry disapparated and left Hermione alone to her thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for every kudos, bookmark or review :)


	3. Getting back on track

Hermione only sent a note to her boss informing her that she took a few days off. Otherwise, she avoided any other contact. Her windows were always closed and after a day, the first owls disappeared. New owls kept coming in but as soon as the birds realized that there was no chance to deliver their letter, they left as well. On the fourth day, merely a handful of owls were pecking at her window.

Hermione occupied herself with rearranging her whole department. She reorganized her books, sort out her clothes and made lists on what creature rights she should focus working on. She cleaned every hidden spot the muggle way, read “Hogwarts – a history” for the thousandth time and learned to cook at least fifteen new dishes.

Still, her mind kept travelling back to Malfoy. She honestly thought about reaching out to him, but she didn’t know whether his trial was finished and she didn’t want to read a newspaper and all the filth that would probably be spread about her in it.

On the eighth day, someone was at her door again. The first words, Ron said as he came in were “Your floo is still down. And I couldn’t apparate here either.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “It is rather impolite to apparate in without a short notice anyway.” “Well, you aren’t receiving any owls so I hadn’t a choice, had I?”

Ron put the Daily Prophet on her kitchen table. “What happened to…” “Malfoy? He wasn’t freed of all charges, but his penalty is rather mild. It wasn’t right what he did, but he did it to save a life. And he was blackmailed. He was sentenced to a year house arrest. Well, six months house arrest now considering that he already had house arrest for half a year until his trial started – that’s it. The whole wizarding world is in chaos. I think he’d fortify in Malfoy Manor anyway.”

“So he is…?” “At Malfoy Manor? Yeah. His trial ended two days ago and his house arrest started right away.” Hermione went silent again. Ron sat down at her kitchen table and stared her down. “Mione, what are you doing? Nobody heard from you in days. Not even Harry. You’ll have to go to work some day, you know?” Hermione gulped. She indeed hat thought about it. But she wasn’t quite ready to face the public yet.

“I can work from home as well. This situation… it’s all a bit much. I was so happy the war was over and I could just focus on myself. But then there was everybody caring what we did and how we did it and I despised it. Our break-up was all over the news and I couldn’t leave my flat undisguised in weeks. Everyone reported about my NEWTs, my new job, what books I bought… and I hated every second of it. I looked forward to a normal year, you know? Just working, without any limelight or trouble.”

Ron just grunted as a response. After a pregnant pause, he asked: “You don’t love him, do you?” “Of course not, Ron!” Hermione rolled her eyes in annoyance. “So…. You didn’t break up because of… him?” “This is your only concern? Seriously, Ronald Bilius Weasley? No, I broke up with you because you are like a brother to me.”

Hermione started preparing waffles to keep her hands occupied, but they were shaking so much that she spilled the flour and dropped an egg. She sat down again next to Ron and dropped her head to the table. “What did we do, Ron?” She buried her head in her hands. “We really weren’t that nice to the ferret,” Ron huffed in response. “Actually… I went to apologize. Three days after Harry has been visiting him. He was quite a prat as usual. Once a ferret, always a ferret. But after my apology, he nodded at least. Nonetheless it was the right thing to do. Maybe seeing him will make you feel better.”

Hermione smiled to herself and looked up. “Ronald, when did you become so wise?” Ron smirked. “I guess Auror training and all… But if you want to see him, you’d need to go to Malfoy Manor.” Ron’s face was serious. Hermione paled. “Maybe I’m delaying my visit. I’m making so much progress in my therapy with the panic attacks right now, I don’t need a setback.”

Ron shrugged. “Send a letter.” “It seems your wisdom is limited,” Hermione smirked. “No, something like this should be done in person.” Ron opened her fridge and started eating a yogurt. “Well, at least you could write him that you will get in contact later. But you should come back to work, you know,” he said with his mouth full. Hermione couldn’t help herself and smiled. It didn’t matter how much the world changed, some things remained always the same.

The next day, she went to work again. Of course, a lot of reporters lingered at her department and tried to get an interview with her, but Hermione stated that she wouldn’t available for any comment.

They tried it again and again the next few weeks, but once it was clear that she kept her mouth shut, public interest moved elsewhere. It certainly helped that a famous quidditch player for the Ballycastle Bats, Henry Waterstone, got a little bit too drunk at his stag party and tried to rob a Muggle liquid store with his wand.

More than three weeks passed and Hermione hadn’t dared to get in contact with Malfoy. She considered visiting him, but the thought of going back _there_ sent shivers down her spine. The first thing she bought after the war was a new wand. She didn’t want to have any reminder of that evil woman -the scar on her arm was enough. Her therapist proposed covering it with a tattoo or removing it magically, but she had declined. Some scars were worth keeping to never forget, but the scars of her soul needed to heal.

A trip to Malfoy Manor would disturb her too much. Even testifying at Malfoy’s trial had been a tad much for her. No, visiting him was definitely not an option. But more than once she sat down and tried to write him a letter, saying that she would contact him after his house arrest ended, but they all found their destination in her chimney. After two months, Hermione resigned. She would have to wait until his house arrest ended and meet him then. Not in Malfoy Manor, but maybe on some neutral ground. She would write to him and ask him to meet her and apologize. Just four months left. He waited for so long, four months wouldn’t make a difference, would it?

Nonetheless, her life didn’t change much. She regularly met with her friends, worked long hours, attended her therapy sessions and read a lot. Changes begun subtle, like water seeping through the ceiling after a water main break, only slowly showing itself, but the damage already done.

Hermione felt dizzy. She woke up in the morning and the world shifted under her gaze. After blinking a few times, it always readjusted. She blamed it on the lack of food – she had work to do and more than once she’d skipped dinner.

A few weeks later, the headaches started. Hermione had conducted that she didn’t sleep enough - merely a few hours each night. After the leprechaun bill would pass, she would slow down, but the project was in a critical phase, so Hermione ignored the pain and worked even more determined. There was no day her hands weren’t covered in ink or her wrist didn’t hurt from all the writing she’d done that day. Or the backpain from sitting all day.

Hermione didn’t notice any extraordinary things until the day circled in red in her calendar was just a week away. The end of Malfoy’s house arrest. Hence, she bought a bottle of wine, sat down on a Saturday and was determined to write the overdue letter to Malfoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was the Easter special. Happy Easter :)  
> I will update again next week.


	4. Triggered

In the end, it took her a few days to write the letter. It started with the problem how she should address him. “Draco” felt to familiar, “Malfoy” felt to distant, “Mister Malfoy” felt to official, leaving it out completely felt wrong and there weren’t many options left. In the end, she settled for the distant, but conservative choice. She sent it on his last day of house arrest. It was quite simple:

 

_Malfoy,_

_I would like to meet and talk a few things out. I hope you understand that I feel not quite comfortable coming to Malfoy Manor. But tell me a time and another place and I will be there._

_Sincerely,_

_HG_

 

The same evening she sent the letter, it knocked at her door. It was raining outside, like heaven itself cried its heart out. He was paler than she remembered him. His cheeks hollow, dark circles under his eyes. He looked worse than in their sixth year. She hadn’t thought he would come right away and see her. For a moment, she just stared at him like he had grown a second and third head, before it hit her like a bludger. “Please come in and sit down, I’ll make us some tea.”

Slowly, he entered and sat down on her couch while she prepared some tea the muggle way with shaking hands. He seemed rather misplaced in her crowded, small apartment in his elegant robes and shining shoes, no hair out of place despite his sickish appearance. She offered him a cup and he took it, staring at the steam curling to the ceiling. He said nothing, his grey eyes glued to the cup in his hands as if it could tell him the answer to his questions. They sat there for a while until Hermione couldn’t take it anymore.

“Why didn’t you use the floo?” She bit her tongue. On her couch sat a young man who had risked everything for her and she started with such a question to break the ice. _Stupid stupid stupid_. “I didn’t want to be rude.” Silence again. “Malfoy… Draco… I…” He rose his hand. “Don’t. Just don’t.”

Silence again.

It was no reassuring silence like it was with Harry. It was a suffocating silence of two people who didn’t feel comfortable around each other. It felt like any wrong word could tip the scale and ruin everything. Only the rain tapped at her window with wet fingers.

Malfoy put his cup down, the ceramic clink like a roar in the silence. He rose elegantly and strolled to one of her bookshelves, his long fingers caressing the book spines carefully, tracing the letter of the bigger ones. His hand trembled slightly. “I don’t know how I should tell you, but you must know.” She wanted to speak again but he stopped her. “This is probably the hardest thing I’ll ever do and I’ve ever down. Harder than taking the mark. So please, for Salazar’s sake, don’t interrupt me until I’ve finished or asked you a question.”

Hermione just nodded. “Did you notice some changes in your well-being the past few weeks?” Hermione almost didn’t dare to look at him. “Well, I felt a bit dizzy and had a headache a few times, but I often forgot to eat and worked long hours, so that explains it.”

Malfoy shook slightly his head. “Do you know Romeo and Juliet? By William Shakespeare?” Hermione almost snorted, but could hold back. Of course she knew Romeo and Juliet. She didn’t trust her voice and said nothing. “ ‘You are a lover. Borrow Cupid’s wings and soar with them above a common bound’, Act 1, Scene 4, Line 17 and 18.”

Hermione gulped. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Malfoy snorted. “Romeo and Juliet are children of two noble, but rivaling houses. They fall in love, but it is not possible for them to be together, because of their families. They try it anyway, fail, and die in the end.”

Now, Hermione snorted. “I know Romeo and Juliet. I just can’t figure out what you want to tell me with that line.” Malfoy ruffled his perfect hair. “Have you ever heard of the Cupid’s curse?” Hermione shook her head.

“It was first mentioned by Shakespeare. In that particular line. It is an ancient curse. Actually, it was quite common in pure blooded families in the early 19th century, when people started to want to get married for love. It was meant as one of the benevolent curses. Two lovers are cursed by a helping third party. They fall sick. Very sick. If the love is not consummated, they both die - by internal bleeding, organ failure and a few other hassles. It was meant to force families to accept the pair, even if they didn’t approve of the match, because otherwise, both houses would lose a child or even worse, their heir.”

Hermione couldn’t help herself and glared furiously. Malfoy rose both hands in defense. “Don’t look at me like that, Granger, I didn’t make the rules. Anyway, as Romeo and Juliet are a perfect example: you must act or both parties die.”

“I still don’t understand,” whispered Hermione. Malfoy grew impatient and strode to her, extending his hand demandingly. “Show me your hands.” A little shyly, she showed him both of her hands. An ink stain wouldn’t come off and she wasn’t keen on showing it to Malfoy of all people.

“There.”, without touching her, he pointed to the black line from the tip of her right index finger to her palm. Her hands were almost covered in ink since she started working for the ministry, so she hadn’t noticed until recently. Hermione shook her head slightly.

“That is waterproof ink from the ministry. I only noticed it the day before yesterday. It is quite nasty to get off.” His grey eyes were cold as steel and his expression serious. “No, Granger, it isn’t.” He showed her his right fingertip. A black line reached from the tip of his index finger to his palm as well. “This isn’t ink, Granger.”

It felt like someone had sucked all the air out of her lungs. The lines were identical. That could not be. Her left index finger traced over the line. It hurt slightly. She looked at Malfoy’s hand. Hermione gulped. The lines were identical.

“It shows how much time we have left. If the black line reaches our heart, we’ll die. Dizziness, headaches, limb pain, tremor are just the beginning. The symptoms worsen over time as the line grows.”

“But…” Hermione stuttered, “I’m not in love with you.” Malfoy snorted again. For a person who was so desperately in love with her, he snorted quite a lot. “It’s not relevant. Obviously my… feelings… for you have been strong enough for the curse to work for us both anyway.”

“But… who cursed us?” “The… dark lord, obviously. He threatened to kill us both, should I tell anybody about… well… that deal.” A lump formed in Hermione’s throat. That was quite a lot. But it was solvable. They would get rid of the curse, end of story.

“But there must be a counter curse, mustn’t it? There always is.” Malfoy shook his head. “The only person who could reverse the curse is the one cursing us. And he is dead.” “But there are curse breakers. Bill Weasley is an excellent curse breaker. If you don’t like him, we could ask another curse breaker. Anybody. We won’t have to die.”

“Granger, for someone so bright you are quite dense. You can’t tell _anybody_ about that curse, do you understand? Or us dying is a matter of days.” Hermione furrowed her brows. “The curse is designated to match the two lovers. If their families could contact a curse breaker, it would be all for naught. Only the families were supposed to know so that they could approve the match. And they shouldn’t be able to contact any other interested parties or tell them about the issue. No, you can tell no one, only your family.”

“But how did your solicitor know?” Malfoy sat down on the couch again and ruffled his hair again. By now, it was almost as disheveled as Harry’s. “Mr. Fletcher has worked for so many years for my family that he has practically become part of the family. He knows every Malfoy secret. He believed the curse wouldn’t trigger after you-know-who died. I told him otherwise, but he didn’t believe me. By showing the whole Wizengamot the deal about the curse, he triggered it. And now, we can’t tell anybody, because it would worsen our situation drastically.”

“That is probably the most evil thing you could do. Taking a benevolent curse and turning it into something ugly.” Hermione shook her head unbelievingly. “Honestly, Granger, that is what you’re concerned about?”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He snorted again. “I tried to. I sent an owl right away after I left the court room. And then another and another. I think I sent 10 owls in 5 hours, but then Potter visited me, apologized and told me that he shouldn’t talk about you and that you would reach out to me when you are ready. I just respected your decision. I came here right after your message arrived.

“I’ve put my house arrest to good use. I searched the whole Malfoy library and it’s the biggest private library in Europe, but I couldn’t find anything scientifically on the curse. It is just mentioned in one or two books. The rest are just private diaries mentioning the use of the Cupid’s Curse, but nothing about a counter curse, because the respective parties got married and the curse was dissolved. It is so rare and the information about it is, too. But I reached out to my father, and asked about every detail about how the curse is done. He’s in a cell with Rabastan Lestrange in Azkaban.”

Hermione interrupted him: “But I thought reaching out for someone would worsen the symptoms?” Malfoy nodded. “My father wouldn’t be the problem. Rabastan would, if me or a family member told him. I knew that was a possibility. But it was my only chance to find a solution. Following, I diagnosed the curse and broke it down in its parts. It can’t be reversed. We can’t be saved.”

He fell silent as his words sunk in. “I’m so sorry, Granger. I’m so sorry for everything.” Before she could respond, he had apparated and she was alone again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for every comment or kudos, I honestly appreciate it!

**Author's Note:**

> My try for a Dramione romance. Please excuse any spelling or grammar errors as english is not my mother tongue.  
> I'm happy for any constructive criticism or kudos :)


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